


We Wish You a Happy Q-mas

by astudyinfic



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, 25 day OTP Holiday Challenge, Established Relationship, M/M, QBond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-04
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-20 06:33:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 10,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/582339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astudyinfic/pseuds/astudyinfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My minifics for the 25 Day OTP Holiday challenge. Following a secret agent and his quartermaster attempting a traditional holiday within the most nontraditional of lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Holiday Decorating

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. Just quick and dirty (though currently not smutty) mini fics, originally posted on my tumblr account (DrandMrsJohnWatson).

“Well done, 007.  We will see you when you get back,” M stated, before striding from the room. 

Another mission successful, if you count several destroyed buildings, a few crashed cars and a battered and bruised agent a success.  But when said agent is James Bond, it is par for the course.  Q Branch slowly emptied, leaving Q behind to finish up the paperwork and make the arrangements for Bond’s return to London.

Room dark, only illuminated by the numerous screens in front of him, Q scanned the room one more time before reconnecting with 007.

“Good evening, James.  Don’t suppose I will be getting any of my equipment back this time.”

A brief chuckle sounded on the other end, “Radio lost in the fire at the factory, tracker eaten by a boa constrictor, and the gun exploded when someone else tried to use it.  So, no, it does not look good for you.”

Sighing, Q pushed his glasses up to pinch the bridge of his nose.  “Why do I even bother?  Someday, I will teach you to respect my property and bring it back in one piece.”

“Many have tried, none have succeeded,” the agent quipped.  “But depending on you plan to teach me the lesson, you may finally be the one to win this battle.”

“I could tie you down and spank you but I think you would enjoy that too much.”  Q’s eyes rolled.  After working with Bond for so long, he was beginning to wonder if that saying of his mother’s might possibly be true and his eyes would indeed stay that way.  Changing the subject, he stated, “Today is December 1.”

Silence occupied the air between them before Bond asked, “And?”

“Typically 1 December is the beginning of the holiday season.  I am decorating my flat when I get home tonight, but I thought you might appreciate some decoration too, in whatever hovel you find yourself in tonight.  Do you see the computer mouse in your laptop case?  That is if you still have the laptop case.”

Some shuffling noises could be heard before Bond responded, “This hovel is a 5 star resort, and you know it considering you made the arrangements.  Yes, I have it right here.  What about it?”

“Just place it on the table, and press the right button.”

Over the intercom, the song “God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman” could be heard, as well as a small gasp from the secret agent.  Q knew he was currently seeing a small holographic image of a Christmas tree above the mouse, with stockings and fireplace projected onto the nearest wall.  It had taken him the better part of a day to program it, but it was worth it to hear Bond murmur his actual name in an awed voice.

“Happy Christmas, James.  I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Thank you, Q.  I love it.  But how did you know I wouldn’t push the button before now?”

“Because you are from the stone age and the thought that you could use anything besides the left button would never occur to you.”

“Cheeky brat.  I love you, Q.”

“I know.  I love you too.”


	2. Christmas Cards

The room was dim that Sunday morning, an early fog blanketing London in a thick haze.  “Christmas cards?  Really?” Bond asked, fingers combing mindlessly through Q’s unruly curls, enjoying a rare moment of peace with both of them in the same country.  “Who would we send Christmas cards to?”

Q shrugged, head pressed to Bond’s chest, listening to the man’s heartbeat while following the scars that crosscut the well tanned skin with his eyes.  They lay curled together in bed, duvet bunched around their waists.  “Not sure, but isn’t that part of the whole holiday experience as a couple?  Sending out cards wishing everyone a Happy Christmas or something.”

“But neither of us have family, our friends could be counted on one hand, and for the most part our lives are top secret.  Makes the whole tradition a bit more difficult.”  Bond chuckled, pressing a kiss to Q’s head. 

Stealing a kiss, Q smiled, “We could send one out to MI6.  They know who we are so the top secret issue wouldn’t matter.  And they are the only people we have any sort of regular contact with.”

Rolling over, so his hands were pinning Q by the shoulders, Bond leaned in to whisper in his ear, “Big step, telling the agency about us.”

“James,” Q murmured, as he arched slightly, the feel of Bond’s breath on his ear sending desire through his body.  “We have been together for a year.  We work for the top spy agency in England.  If they have not figured it out yet, they do not deserve to work for MI6.”

007’s lip quirked as he nipped at the sensitive skin of Q’s neck.  “Alright.  You come up with something.”

Q grinned, ideas already forming in his mind, as he turned to meet Bond’s lips with his own and the conversation was lost for the next hour while their tongues had better things to do.

~

The next morning, when MI6 employees logged into their account, instead of their typical desktops they were greeted with a green screen, a red bow at the top and the following words.

_Happy Christmas from Q and 007!_

_May your lives be filled with excitement and innovation._

_Always, 00Q_


	3. Snuggling by the fire with cocoa

Two cups in his hand, Q made his way back down the snow covered walk to where 007 was standing, admiring the flames.  It was a brisk night, but the fire was keeping them quite warm.  Bond took the cup without a word, but smiled his thanks to his young lover.  Taking a sip, he grimaced having expected his usual black coffee.  “Cocoa?” he asked, eye brow quirked.

“Well, we are in Switzerland, home of the world’s best chocolate.  Seemed appropriate.  I am sure you rarely get to enjoy the world’s cuisine when you are out defending Queen and Country.”  Q sipped his own drink, enjoying the warmth that flowed down his throat, warming him from the inside out.  “Why am I here anyway?  There was nothing I did here that I could not have done on my laptop from our bed.  And there was so much that needed to be done at Q branch.  Just not sure I can trust the interns on their own.”

Bond shrugged, wrapping an arm around the Quartermaster’s waist.  “M told you to come.  Simple as that.  It’s not like they ever give us straight answers.  Just think of it as a government funded holiday.  And the interns will be just fine because they know if they mess anything up in the department they have to answer to you and me.”

Q smiled, leaning his head against Bond’s shoulder, enjoying the crackling warmth in front of them.  “It is nice to get away.  And you made it through the mission without destroying my equipment, or worse, getting hurt in the process.  This may be a new record for you, James.”

“Perhaps I try harder when you are here to scold me immediately.  At least when you are in London I have time to come up with a good cover story.”

Q elbowed him in the ribs, chuckling slightly.  “You’re a right prat, you know that 007?”

“And you are rather fit for a computer nerd, Q.”  He turned slight, pressing together.  They kissed softly for a few minutes, as sirens began to sound in the distance.

“I think that is our signal to head back to the hotel.  I have some ideas about how to warm you up.”

Q grinned, taking Bond’s hand in his, as they walked to the waiting car.  “Did you have to burn down the building though?  You already had what you came for.”

“Yes, but I am not one to miss a chance to cuddle with you in front of a roaring fire,” came the cheeky response, and Q laughed heartily, as he pressed a kiss to Bond’s shoulder, the building collapsing behind them and snow crunching under their feet.


	4. Gift Shopping

Months earlier Q had purchased the holiday gifts for his family, his mother and brothers.  With his job, you could never be sure when you would have the time, so he prepared ahead, everything scheduled for delivery two days before Christmas, wrapped and ready to be placed under the tree.  That way no matter where the job found him, he was ready.  And if he was dead, which was always a possibility with this job, he knew his family would get one last thing from him after his passing. 

But now he found that he had one more gift to purchase.  What do you get for your assigned government trained killer turned lover?  He ran algorithms, searched websites, and snooped around Bond’s flat when he was away on a mission.  Still he had no idea.  Feeling at his wit’s end with the holidays fast approaching, he retired to his office to unwind with a cup of Earl Grey tea and some minor hacking into the CIA database.  That was all he need, just something to clear his head.

It couldn’t have been more than two minutes (he was already well past the 2nd firewall) when 007 entered the office and slid silently into one of the chairs.  Bond knew better than to interrupt Q when he was hacking, and had gotten good enough at reading Q’s facial expressions and body language to know when he was hacking as opposed to just doing regular MI6 work.

He reached a stage where he needed to write down some of the code for later but didn’t want to stop typing, so he said without looking up, “Write something down for me.”

Bond grabbed a note card from his immaculate desk, “Sure.  Toss me a pen.”   Q’s hands froze and he looked over at 007, his wide eyes magnified by his large glasses. 

Jumping from his seat, he rushed past on his way to the door, pausing only to press a quick kiss to the double-oh’s lips.  “James, you are brilliant!  I’ll see you at home, alright?”  And with that he was out the door, leaving a chuckling, slightly bewildered secret agent in his wake.

Rushing to the old records department, he spent the next hour flipping through dusty technically files, all while reminding himself to get a technician to scan these into the database soon.  Finally reaching the one he was searching for, he beamed while pulling it from the file.  Sure it was outdated and obsolete, but people said the same thing about Bond yet he managed to save their arses time after time.  The rest of the day was spent tinkering with the perfect gift.  Occasionally he would glance up to see Bond glaring at him through the glass.  Q reprogrammed all the doors to lock automatically when 007 approached.  Wouldn’t do to have him discover the gift early.

As he left that night, he locked the gift away in an explosion proof case and then placed safely inside his desk.  No sense in losing one of the interns when they mistook Bond’s present for a normal ballpoint.    


	5. Getting the Christmas Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Q's a bit of a cheeky brat. He hates to be wrong.

“If you insist on doing the traditional holiday thing, than I insist that you do at least one thing in a traditional manner.”   Staring at each other over the dinner table, the stand-off had been going for almost twenty minutes.   “You are not allowed to program a holographic tree to turn on and off at appointed times.  We are getting a real one and that is it.”

“Who is going to water it when you are on missions?  And who is going to have to vacuum the needles?  And we would have to buy decorations.  All I am is saying that a holographic tree seems like the best option, James.”

Crossing his arms and quirking an eyebrow at his Quartermaster, Bond declared, “We are getting a real tree or no tree at all.  It is your choice, Q.”  He received a curt nod in return, and smirked, pleased that he finally won against Q.  He may be young, but he was stubborn as an ox and knew how to work James to get his way.

The next day found them slogging through the rain in an MI6 vehicle after Bond had declared that there would be no pine trees in the Aston Martin.  Q had tried once more to pressure him in favour of the hologram, but Bond quickly put a hold on that argument and Q spent the drive pouting in the passenger seat.   Coming up from his moping, Q looked around, “Where are we?  Scotland?  We’ve been driving for hours.”

“Almost there.  We are doing this traditional way, I told you.”  Ten minutes later, Bond pulled to the side of the road and exited the car, a confused Quartermaster following in his wake.

“When I get hypothermia and they have to chop off my toes due to gangrene, I hope you know that I will be blaming you for damaging an important government resource.”

“Quit whining or you can walk back to London,” 007 growled over his shoulder, though a twinkle in his eyes betrayed his amusement at his unhappy young lover.  Bond’s good humour just pushed Q deeper into his rather foul mood.

The hike in seemed to go on longer than the drive to Q’s mind, but eventually they found themselves in a wet, yet beautiful patch of trees, all perfect pines.  Before leaving, James had asked if they could use a laser cutter from Q branch to cut down the tree, but Q had snarkily responded that it would not be the proper, _traditional_ way of doing it, so 007 got to work with an old hand saw.

The strapped the tree to the top of the car, hoping it wouldn’t scratch too much so there would be no need to explain Christmas tree marks on a company vehicle when they got back to headquarters.  The tree was unloaded and taken up to Q’s flat in the lift, where it was settled in the corner near the window. 

The smell of pine filled the air, and while there were needles all over the ground, Q had to admit that perhaps the tree was more festive than what he had in mind.  “Okay.  Maybe you were right,” he smiled, wrapping his arms around James’ waist.

“What was that?  I didn’t hear you.”

“Knock it off or you are getting hearing aids under that tree, old man.”  They both smirked as their lips met in a kiss.


	6. Decorating the Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops! Went porny. That was not my intention for this chapter so blame 007 and Q. They had other ideas.

“Can’t I just..?”

“No.”

“But…”

“No.”

They had been staring at each other from either side of the tree for 5 minutes, arguing about whether running an electrical current directly through the tree would be a practical way to save on lighting costs plus an sure fire way to keep the cat from attempting to climb it.

“James, it will be perfectly safe, I promise.  Just think about it.  We wouldn’t even need to deal with the lights at all.”  Bond quirked an eyebrow as Q’s ideas seemed a bit outlandish even for him so as Q opened his mouth once more to make his point, 007 stepped forward and stopped him with a kiss. 

Wrapping Q in his arms, the younger man melted, licking his way in to Bond’s mouth.  They had been trying to decorate the tree since getting home from work earlier that evening and neither had even bothered to change from their work clothes.  As such, they soon found themselves shucking layers left and right.  Ties went flying, shirts quickly followed.  Q’s glasses were set on the first sturdy-ish thing they could find and soon they found themselves nude in the middle of the living room.

Sinking to his knees, Bond took Q in his mouth, enjoying the taste of his lover on his tongue.  Moaning, Q grabbed his shoulders to stay upright as he arched backwards into the slick heat of 007’s mouth.  Tongue lapping off the pre-come at the head, James came off with a pop, pulling Q down next to him. 

They lay on the floor, legs entwined, arms pulling themselves ever closer, continuing the kiss that had started this.  Reaching between them, Q took them both in his large hand and began stroking.  Both were leaking copiously and they groaned as their cocks slid together for the first time.

Having been together long enough that impromptu living room sex just did not happen very often anymore, the excitement of it had them both close within a matter of minutes.

“I’m getting close,” Bond panted against Q’s lips, before tilting his head slightly to nip at the pale, perfect skin of the Quatermaster’s neck.  A dark purple mark was visible when James pulled his head away and he kissed it before moving up to his lover’s ear.

“Come with me.  Come on,” he murmured into Q’s ear.  Q answered by bucking his hips forward, groaning loudly as he came between them, James following not a second behind.

Curled around each other on the floor, Q flung an arm out searching for a discarded item of clothing to use for clean up.  Lifting his head, he looked at the spotless floor.  “Where are our clothes?” his voice still husky in the afterglow. 

007 looked around before chuckling slightly, “Looks like we decorated the tree after all.”

They both stared at the tree with grins on their faces.  Ties hung in the place of tinsel, shirts and cardigan in the place of ornaments.  A pair of glasses and two pairs of trousers were scattered on the branches.  And on the uppermost branch, a pair of pants hung as the tree topper.

“Best tree decorating ever,” Q smirked, pressing a kiss to Bond’s shoulder, both of them laying back to admire the utterly debauched tree.


	7. Mistletoe

Putting the finishing touches on his latest tech, Q looked up to see 007 walking towards him.  He had been called for a mission in Finland and just needed his last few supplies before leaving.  “I have everything you need, 007.”

Bond smirked at the double meaning, holding out his hand for whatever Q had for him this time.  The old quartermasters would give him exploding pens and dagger shoes, and while he loved this man, his tech was a bit dull in comparison.  It got the job done, but sometimes Bond missed the flash of the old days.

Looking at the small key in his hand, 007 turned it over twice before looking at Q, a silent question in his eyes.  “It’s a laser cutter.  Can cut through metal up to 6 inches deep.  As well as glass and granite.  It even does wood.  Should be able to get you out of any tight spot and is designed to look like an ordinary car key.   Just don’t confuse it for your actual set or I will need to replace the starter in the Aston Martin when you return.”

Bond nodded approvingly.  This was more his speed, something that wasn’t completely techy and new age.  Slipping the key in his pocket, “Is that all?”

Q shook his head and pulled out a box from his drawer.  Looking around quickly to make sure no one was watching, he handed it to Bond.  “I made this especially for you.  I know how you feel about your old gadgets, so I thought this might be something you would appreciate.  I know I told you we don’t really do this kind of thing anymore, but I made an exception.”

Flipping the box open, Bond found an expensive looking watch, leather wrist band and gold plated edges.  “It’s a wrist dart gun.  I believe you used one back when you took out Hugo Drax, correct?  It can shoot armor piercing darts as well as a new kind as I have been turned off from cyanide ever since that issue with Silva.”  Q explained.

Approvingly, Bond removed his normal watch, placing it in Q’s desk drawer knowing he would find it on his bedside table when he returned from the mission.  “If not cyanide, then what?” he asked, admiring the way it fit comfortably, though knowing Q that was not a surprise.

“Mistletoe, actually.  Decorating the flat gave me the idea.  It’s at a lethal dose for most people and will not be something typically tested for in a drug screening.   Virtually untraceable.”

Shaking his head, Bond smiled.  “You are a bloody marvel, you know that?”  Q preened slightly under the praise. 

“I’ll be in your ear the whole time, 007.  Please try not to get too badly damaged, and for the love of all that is holy do not shoot yourself with your watch or so help me it is the last piece of ‘interesting’ tech you will ever get from this department.”

Chuckling, Bond turned to leave, “I’ll see you when I get back, Q.”

 


	8. Making a Snowman

As he slipped on his coat, Q replied, “Yes, I do have to go.  You may be fine not having a life outside MI6 but I would like to at least keep a somewhat cordial relationship with the family I have left.”

“Yes, but it is cold and snowy outside.  And it’s babysitting.”  Bond said the last word as if it were something especially foul.

“My nephew is 6.  It is not as if I will be changing diapers.  Given the weather, we may go sledding or have a snowball fight.  Do something fun.  You do remember fun, don’t you?”  Q’s mouth quirked.  He did so enjoy tormenting his agent.

Crossing his arms, Bond answered, “Says the man who believes hacking governmental databases is a good time.”

Q huffed, “I will have you know that I am also an expert Minesweeper player and was once on the cricket squad at school.”

“Impressive.  Well, enjoy your evening.  I plan on spending it indoors with Scotch and comfort.”

Q rolled his eyes on the way out the door.  Bond could be insufferable.

Nathan was a pleasant 6 year old.  Not too demanding yet with enough energy to keep Q on his toes.  Generally they spent their nights together playing video game, but the rare event of snow in London encouraged him to actually get them out of the house for a change.  They made their way to the park across the street.

“Uncle!  Uncle!  I want to make a snowman!  Please!!”

“Okay, Nathan.”  They started rolling the snow into balls, Q showing him how he needed three different sized balls and how to make them perfectly round.  While they worked he was aware of a man watching them from the shadows, but he had his weapon on him and decided to wait and see if he was a threat or not.

Nathan got a bit carried away and all three parts were rather large.  Q helped him roll them closer together, and the attempted to lift the middle on up, but it was rather bulky for the two of them.

“Let me help,” a gruff voice sounded.  Adreneline pounded in Q’s veins for a moment until he realized he recognized the voice. 

“What are you doing here, James?” he asked as they lifted the ball off the ground.  “Thought the night called for Scotch and the comfort of home.”

“Too quiet.  Nothing to blow up.  Figured I would come see what you were doing.”

Q smiled, “Then make yourself useful and put the head on while we go find some arms.”

When the snowman was finished, Nathan jumped around, throwing rocks at it, pretending he was a ninja trying to take out a spy.   Q giggled softly as Bond tried to explain that spies aren’t the bad guys.

As they walked back to Nathan’s house, Q took Bond’s hand.  “Are you heading back to the flat or are you coming with us?  My brother should be home in 15 minutes or so?”

“I’ll just wait with you and when we get home I will warm you up properly.”  Q squeezed his hand in agreement as they kept walking.


	9. Ugly Christmas Jumper

“What ARE you wearing?” Q asked, shutting the door behind him.  Bond was on his traditional after mission day off, and had still been asleep when Q had left for work that morning.

Bond looked down and shrugged, “I don’t know.  It was in the closet and I was cold.”

“You look ridiculous, you know that right?”  Setting his keys and phones on the counter.  “If only the terrorists could see you know.  The dreaded 007 in a forest green jumper with festive, little reindeer all over it.”

“It isn’t like I have anyone to impress.  I’m not leaving the flat and I won you over ages ago.” 

Q rolled his eyes, making his way to the couch where Bond was sitting with his drink and the telly remote.  “Yeah, well I’m reconsidering after seeing this.”  He smirked, crawling onto 007’s lap, knees on either side of his hips.  “Trained government death machines should not look cute and cuddly.  It just isn’t fair that you can be adorable and lethal.  And completely ridiculous.”  Q’s hands came up, one resting on Bond’s chest and one running through the short blonde hair.  Leaning forward, he kissed him softly for a few moments.

When they broke apart, Bond just smiled up at him, amusement obviously in his crystal blue eyes.

“I love you, James.  You know that.  But I am using that jumper for target practice next time I’m at the range.”


	10. Baking Christmas Treats

Having been shot in the line of duty, again, Bond found himself stuck at home with little to do.  With 007 out of the field for a few days, because a gunshot wound wouldn’t slow him down for long, Q took a day off to hang out at home with him.  Plus, with the holidays coming up, there were some things that needed to be taken care of.

“You can BAKE?” Bond asked incredulously, staring as Q started pulling things down from the cupboards.    

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, 007.  I did it long before you came along.  And baking is simple.  Just science.  Precise measurements and instructions.  I may be a computer geek but I am also able to branch out occasionally.

Bond grabbed the rum bottle Q had set down, and poured a glass for himself before leaning against the refrigerator.  “So what are you making?”

“Christmas pudding.  Wouldn’t be the holiday without it.  My grandmother used to make it, then my mum.  Since they both passed on, I have been making it myself.  Not that hard, just lots of fruit, so mixing and some steaming.”  Q set to work chopping up fruit and Bond marveled at how dexterous his hands were.  Normally they were flying over a keyboard, but they seemed just as at home with a knife. 

He downed the last of his drink before walking to stand next to the Quartermaster.  Placing his hand on Q’s hip, he asked “What can I help with?”

“If you could zest and juice the lemon for me, I would appreciate it,” he replied, not looking up from the cutting board.

They worked mostly in silence, Q just telling him what needed to be done occasionally.  Before long the pudding was steaming and they were reclining on the sofa, Q’s head in Bond’s lap.

“If one word of this gets out at the agency, you can be certain your next Walther will shoot backwards.”

Bond chuckled.  “Wouldn’t dream of it.”


	11. Snogging by the fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Q gets a new toy and they both get it on

Bond relaxed, sitting on the floor with his back against the couch, book in hand.  Having time off was a rare commodity and he intended to enjoy it thoroughly.  Q was off doing some nonsense with his newest toy, a gift from one of his brothers who knew of his fascination with technology.  Never mind that he could design something ten times faster and better, he still had to play with it.

Just as he was cracking open the book, Q came bounding into the room, toy in hand.  “James!  Look at this!”  He sat right on Bond’s lap, falling between his legs, so Q’s were draped over Bond’s left leg, his back against Bond’s right.  “There are so many different things this can do.  Literally thousands of functions that I can download with a touch of the screen.”

Bond sighed, setting his book to the side.  “It’s an iPad, Q.  They’ve been around for awhile.  Of all people, you should know that.”

“Yes, yes.  I was aware of them, but they seemed silly compared to the tech I have at MI6.  But this is fun.”  James rolled his eyes at his companion’s overexcitement.  “I’ll have to see if I can upgrade it.  It is rather simple after all, but look at this.”  He pushed a button and the screen lit up with a virtual fireplace. 

Bond chuckled.  “It’s just a fire, Q.  Nothing I don’t see enough of in my day to day life anyway.  Remember the armory in Switzerland.” 

Now it was Q’s turn to roll his eyes, “How could I forget?  But we don’t have a fireplace, and now we do.”  He chuckled a bit, placing the gadget on the table for them both to admire.  “Ok, it’s lame.  I admit it,” he said after a few minutes of watching the animated flames dance on the screen. 

“Maybe it isn’t so bad,” Bond replied, wrapping his arms around Q, pulling him closer to his chest.  Leaning forward, he captured Q’s lips with his own, dragging his tongue across the seam of his mouth begging entry.  Q parted his lips, and their tongues slid together with ease.  Bond lifted his hand to run through Q’s unruly hair, while Q teased his fingers across the shell of Bond’s ear.

As the kiss deepened, the table was pushed out of the way to give them room to lie down.  If either of them were aware of the iPad hitting the ground, they made no motion to save it even as the now fractured flames continued to flicker on.


	12. Watching a Holiday Film

“I had plans for my day off, you know?” Q grumbled under his breath, making his way to Q branch.   It was 2 in the morning, and wired on too much Earl Grey, he had been planning to watch bad films at the flat while Bond was somewhere in the vicinity of Timbuktu.  (“No, really, where are you going?”  “I told you.  Timbuktu.”  “Seriously?”  “Would I lie to you, Q?”)

But things had gone pear shaped with 004’s mission and he needed to be there to hack the security feeds to get him out.  He was capable of doing it from home, but M insisted on him being at MI6.  Booting up his computers, he pulled up a smaller screen and decided since the hacking would only occupy a small fraction of his brain, he could perhaps have a film fest after all.  While the movie loaded, a text buzzed on his personal mobile. 

_Bored.  Entertain me. -J_

_You sound like my brother. -Q_

Q rolled his eyes, annoyed that the man couldn’t even handle a simple mission without needing something, even if it was just entertainment, but at least he wasn’t off shagging anyone.  While he understood the need for Bond to get *close* to informants, it didn’t mean that he enjoyed that portion of the agent’s job.   

He sent off a quick text ( _Fine.  Check your laptop_ ), before sending something over his direct line to Bond’s computer.

_Really, Q?_

_Really.  This is what I am watching, so you get to watch it too._

_A comedy about a man who thinks he is an elf?  Who are you and what have you done to my Quartermaster?_

_I’m bored because another one of you double-ohs screwed up and I’m stuck at work.  Plus, it wouldn’t kill you to smile occasionally, James._

The texting continued throughout the film, even as Q arranged an escape for 004 and improved his own security network.  

Just before the film came to an end, one last text came in.

_Target spotted.  We’ll have to do this again next time we are on the same continent._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, they can't all be winners.   
> Life is crazy today so this one is rather rushed. Sorry.


	13. Listening to Christmas Music

It was late.  Since there were no windows or clocks in Q-branch, he was not sure how late but it was most definitely past midnight.  Everyone else had gone home, including Bond whom Q had kicked out hours earlier. 

Line after line of code flashed by as his fingers danced over the keyboard.  This was not urgent work, it could wait until he got some sleep but he didn’t want to stop.  The lines of code were flowing from his fingers and there was no point in interrupting the thought process for something as minor as rest or nutrition. 

The lights were dimmed, an automatic feature designed to save money —a fact Q found endlessly entertaining when he thought of his near-unlimited budget— but he did not mind the dark.   He piped in music over the speakers, some old instrumental Christmas tunes, and continued work. 

Q was so engrossed in the work that he did not notice the footsteps approaching until familiar arms wrapped around him. 

“Were you planning on staying here all night?” a gravely voice asked in his ear.  Q leaned back in to the solid comfort of the man behind him.

“Hadn’t really given it much thought, but probably.”  He continued to type even as his eyes drifted closed for a second, relishing the connection between him and Bond.

Bond huffed quietly, pressing his lips to Q’s hair, “Can you at least take a break?  I barely saw you all day.”

Typing one more line of code, Q finally lifted his hands and turned in Bond’s arms.  He lifted his own to wrap around 007’s neck.  “What did you have in mind?”

Bond took one of his hands in his own, “Dance with me?”

Q chuckled slightly, even as he began to follow Bond’s lead.

“You are the one in here with mood lighting, music, and look positively breathtaking.  It seemed only right.”

Rolling his eyes, Q pressed himself closer, “Never took you for a romantic, James.”

“Never knew you could dance, Q.  Should have done this a long time ago.”

Q sighed loudly through his nose before pressing his lips to Bond’s for a quick kiss.  Relaxing, he rested his head against 007’s and together they swayed to Q’s favourite Christmas carol in the darkened room, lit by a lone computer screen, long forgotten.


	14. Ice Skating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drabble today because HOBBIT

“You’ve never done this before?”

“No.”

“What kind of childhood did you have?  What did you do for fun?”

“Took things apart.  Put them back together.  Hid from bullies.  Read.  The usual.  Flouncing about on ice was not my idea of a good time.”

“You never even went out on a frozen pond?”

“I grew up in London, James.  Not a lot of ponds.”

Bond shook his head as he held on to his less coordinated partner.  “And what do you think about it now?”

“As long as your hands stay firmly on my waist, this is not too bad.”


	15. Snowballs

In the early evening most people were still working hard, but they would slowly trickle out until Q was the only one left.  “It’s snowing,” Bond said as he stood at Q’s desk, technicians and interns bustling around him.

Q’s eyes lit up with excitement generally reserved for new tech.  “Really?  Perfect!”  He grinned, looking positively giddy, the expression taking several years off his already young face.  “You want to help me test some equipment after everyone is gone?  I’ve been waiting for snow for awhile.”

Bond raised an eyebrow, before nodding once.  He was never quite sure what Q was up to but any excuse to spend time with the man was ok with 007.

Several hours later found them at a park in central London with a modified grenade launcher.  “Remember the ice bullets from the mission 6 months ago?  I began thinking that perhaps I could adjust  a gun to shoot larger frozen projectiles.  If it works, you would have never ending ammunition in colder environments and after knocking holes in walls or bodies, the evidence would melt away.  Under laboratory conditions, this performed well but without natural snow this is still hypothetical,” Q had explained on the way over.  The park had been chosen as it was generally empty this late at night.

Loading the launcher proved to be more difficult than anticipated as the snowballs would not hold together.  Only once they managed to get a ball to actually launch which disintegrated in a puff of snow against a distant tree.  Mostly it just made loud bangs and acted more as a snow machine than grenade launcher.  Deemed a failure, the gun was taken apart and placed in a satchel-camouflaged case just as sirens approached, the flashing lights coming to a stop next to their car.

Thinking quickly Bond pushed Q against a tree, snogging him thoroughly.  They continued as footsteps approached.

“Excuse me, gentlemen.  We have had reports of several small explosions in the park tonight.  Have you seen or heard anything?” the police officer asked.

“Can’t say that we have.  Just stopped for a romantic stroll in the snow on our way home from work,” Bond explained as Q straightened his glasses and tugging at his shirt, looking slightly embarrassed, though Bond knew better.

“I suggest retiring to someplace warmer before long,” the officer smirked.  “But if you see of hear anything, please give us a call.”  He handed them his card and wandered off to continue searching the park.

Bond bent to grab the satchel and, picking up some snow at the same time, smashed it into Q’s hair as he stood up.   “Come on, Q.  Let’s go home.”  Q brushed off the snow, being sure to hit James with some of it. 

As they walked off, chuckling at their “near escape” their laughter mixed with some from the other end of the park.


	16. Getting sick from the cold

“You are not going to work.  Get your bum back in bed.”

“I am going to work.  And bum?  What are you, 12?”

Bond grumbled under his breath.  All his life he had been called stubborn, but Q took it to a new level.    “You were diagnosed with walking pneumonia.  Probably due to all the time spent outside getting that snowball shooter working.”

“I’m fine.  You said it yourself, *walking* pneumonia.  I need to be at work.  There are things to be done.  008 is out bound today and I need to be there to make sure everything is in order.”  Q continued to button up his cardigan, the action taking three times as long since he had to pause to cough numerous times.

“You are not her quartermaster, Q.  Get back in bed.”

“I need to be there in case her quartermaster needs something.  I am head of Q-branch.  It is my duty to make sure everything is in order.”

“No, you are a control freak and the idea that your minions would have free reign of the lab terrifies you more than anything I put you through on a mission.  Admit it.” 

At that Q had the sense to look slightly chastened.  “Well, it’s not that I’m not terrified for you.  But so far, between the two of us, we have managed to get you out of every scrape you manage to find yourself in.  If I’m not in Q-branch today, who Tanner will put in charge?  And I have experiments running.  And I just…”  At this, the coughing took over again, wracking his whole body while Bond looked on, feeling rather helpless.

When the coughing slowed, Bond picked up Q, marveling yet again how light the young man was and carried him to bed, despite the feeble protests the quartermaster was putting up.  “They said ‘walking’, James.   _Cough cough cough_.  Put me down.  They need me there.”

James dropped him gently on the bed then proceeded to sit on his legs so he wouldn’t be able to get up.  “What did you tell me the first time we met?”

“I rambled on about a painting of a big bloody ship and then gave you a gun that you never returned even though I told you to.”

Bond rolled his eyes before leaning forward to press a kiss to Q’s too-hot forehead.  “What else did you say?”

“Don’t remember,” Q mumbled petulantly.

“You told me you could do more damage in your pajamas before your first cup of Earl Grey than I could do in a year.  Remember?”  Q nodded, unsure where this is going.  “And now I want you to prove it.”

Bond bent over and pulled out a laptop from under the bed.  “Do your whole job, but do it here.  Follow the interns on CCTV.  Direct 008’s quartermaster if necessary.  Tell Tanner to piss off when needed.  But do it from this bed.  And I’ll be right here to make sure you do not get up.”

“I need to be there…”

“You can’t do it.  Figured as much,” Bond interrupted, unwilling to listen to Q’s excuses.

Q glared, “I can do it.”

“Then prove it.  And don’t even try to get up or I will tie you to this bed.  Normally that could be good fun, but you are not up for it and you have work to do.”

“Fine,” Q snarled, opening his laptop and logging into the MI6 system.

Bond sat back, fingers laced behind his head and watched Q work.  He really was a marvel and even desperately ill managed to get everything accomplished that he needed to before drifting off to sleep around lunchtime.  Bond quietly took the laptop from under his fingers, kissed him on the temple, then wandered off in the direction of the kitchen in search of something to eat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping Q doesn't come off as petulant teenager and more like dedicated employee. That was what I was going for....


	17. Spending Time With Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 221B Style tonight. Sorry for the brief post.

Q and Eve became good friends when she got assigned to MI6 headquarters.  When Bond was on a mission, she was someone he could turn to when he needed things done.  She knew about their relationship before anyone else at the agency and was the one Q complained to when 007 decided to go off the grid.  Again. 

It was not a surprise when she showed up one night a week before Christmas with a bottle of champagne and a smile on her face.  “M gave me the night off and we are going to celebrate!” she smirked , pushing her way into the living area where Bond was reclined on the couch.  “007,” she nodded, grabbing three glasses from the wet bar and setting them on the table.  Q padded into the living room behind her, rolling his eyes at James as plopped down next to the man.

The three of them drank and laughed well into the night.

“How does it feel to know that I slept with your boyfriend?” Eve asked, as she enjoyed another glass.

“How does it feel to know that he chose me over you?” Q countered.

“Anyone want to know how it feels to be surrounded by children?” Bond asked, glaring at them both while tugging Q closer.

Simultaneously they answered, “Shut up, Bond.”


	18. Sharing Warm Clothes

“I have everything here that you need, 007.”  Bond was amazed, even after all this time, how easy it was for Q to slip on the professional mask and treat him exactly as he would any other agent in Her Majesty’s Secret Service.  “Walther, radio, distress beacon.  All the standard tech.  This is supposed to be an easy mission, just in and out so I expect to see you back here within 48 hours.  Do not attempt to go off grid as I have trackers on you that you are not yet aware of.”  Or maybe not, Bond thought, as the mask slipped slightly and Q’s amusement shown through his dark green eyes.

“Thank you, Q.”  Bond turned to walk away when he felt Q grab his wrist gently. 

He leaned over, digging through a drawer in his desk.  “One more thing, James,” he said, quiet enough that no one else in the bustling room could hear them.   Pulling out a small package, he shoved it into Bond’s hands.  “Gloves that will retain your body heat for up to 24 hours after wearing them.  While we never know what to expect from you on missions, I think the fact that you are going to Antarctica at least guarantees that you will be cold.”  He smiled a bit, eyes glancing over the minions working on their various projects.

“Thanks,” Bond murmured, and making a quick sweep of the room to be sure no one was watching, pressed a quick kiss to Q’s lips.  “I’ll see you when I get back, love,” he whispered.  A bit louder, he continued, “I’ll be sure to bring you a penguin.”

“Just return my equipment, 007.  That’s all I ask.”  Q chuckled slightly as Bond left the room, knowing he’d never see that tech again.


	19. Attending a Holiday Party

_You will BOTH be there.  No excuses. –EM_

Q had been receiving these texts for a week now, and try as he may, he could not come up with a way to get out of it.  Eve was bloody terrifying when she wanted to be.  Hell, she came closer to killing James Bond than any of the villains he had faced throughout his life.  Sometimes it just wasn’t worth arguing.  He had yet to pose the situation to Bond.  Maybe he will have a mission.  Q would have to stay at his desk to monitor.  That could work.

_No missions planned so he can’t bug out on it.  And if he has to be there, you will be too. -EM_

Damn.  The woman thought of everything. 

The next day found them still in Q-branch much later than would be expected for a non-mission Friday.  Bond sat with his feet up on one of the desks and Q worked on a report from the previous week’s mission with 006.  When 8PM rolled around, Q sighed, running his hand through his hair.  “Guess there is no way to get out of it?” he asked one last time, hopeful that maybe Bond had come up with something.

“I wouldn’t risk it.  She has deadly aim and is also skilled with a straight edge razor.  Best that we just go along with it.”

Q nodded and made his way towards the door, Bond’s footsteps echoing close behind him.  At least they wouldn’t have to go far.  Small mercies.

The room was more subdued than would be expected for a typical Holiday party, but when you all kill people for a living and most of your coworkers don’t know your real name (and you don’t know their’s) it makes for an interesting social gathering.  Grabbing a glass of wine, Q found a bare space on the wall and went to lean against it, praying that it would just open up and take him away from this.  He hated parties.  He hated socializing.  All he wanted to do was go back to Q-branch.  But Eve would find him.  She would always find him. 

He watched Bond get a martini and make his way through the crowd, his charisma drawing people to him.  He smiled, shook hands, and chatted with almost everyone while Q looked on.  Eventually, he just tipped his head back against the wall, closed his eyes and waited for it to be over. 

“What do you say you and I get out of here?”  The voice near his ear made him jump, and he turned to look directly into Bond’s ice blue eyes.  He just nodded and followed the man out of the room.  They made it two doors down before pushed the door open and ushered Q inside. 

As soon as the door closed, Bond pushed him against the wall, claiming his mouth with his own.  Q moaned, reaching up with the hand not still holding the wine to card through Bond’s hair before gripping his neck and holding him close.  Utterly lost in the moment, they did not hear the door open, or the click of heels as she entered the room.

“You two are going to get caught.  Get a room.”

Q blushed profusely while Bond turned his head slightly to look at her, “You told us we had to be there.  You didn’t tell us how long we had to stay.  We have a room so kindly get out.”  He turned his attention back to Q who was smirking at him.

“Men,” Eve huffed, locking the door behind her as she made her way back to the party.


	20. An Early Gift

“It’s only the 20th Bond.  Too early for gifts.”  Q was still in bed, duvet pulled over his face.  It had been a long two days getting Bond in and out of Paris with key drive intact.  Having been given the day off, his plan had been to sleep until noon, shower, eat, then sleep until Bond showed up that evening.  He hadn’t expected the agent to appear, bright eyed, at seven-bloody-thirty in the morning, and bearing gifts no less.

“It’s not a Christmas present.  It was cover.”  Q wracked his sleep addled mind, trying to figure out what Bond was talking about.  Cover?  Oh, the museum.  The target had possibly spotted Bond, so he had slipped into the gift shop and purchased something in attempt to look like a typical tourist.  Q gave it very little thought at the time.  It was just par for the course with a mission.

Now, however, knowing that Bond had bought it for him, or at least with him in mind, curiosity got the better of him and he rolled over, eyes just peeking out over the blanket.  Bond chuckled, running his hands through Q’s messy hair.  “So what is it?” Q asked, trying to feign nonchalance.

Shrugging, Bond handed him a long tube.  “Just something that made me think of you, yet still made the perfect cover.”

Sitting up, Q, slid the paper from the tube and unrolled it gently.  “Oh,” he exclaimed, barely more than a breath.  He ran his hands over the paper, before turning to give Bond a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Our first meeting.  You babbled on about it for what seemed like hours.  I couldn’t figure out who this cute kid was who just kept talking about some painting.  When I found out you were Q, I was even more intrigued.  And I still am.”  Bond wrapped one arm around Q, who leaned comfortably into the embrace.

“Well, it is a classic piece of art.  You should know something about it.  But you double-ohs, all brawn, no brains.  A bit of culture would do you good,” Q joked, still holding the paper in his hands.

“Yeah, culture or not, still just looks like a bloody big ship to me.”


	21. In a Cafe

“I flew half way across the world.  I got on an AEROPLANE.  And now, there is no tea.  This is my idea of hell, James.  Hell.”

Q was a bit cranky.  He felt he had the right to be cranky.  For some reason that had not yet been explained to him, he was forced to fly with Bond to his mission in the United States.  He was posing as a college student, observing while Bond met with a faculty member who had done research on terror cells.  There was no reason for Q specifically to be there, as far as he could tell.  The only plus side was that when the mission was over they would have a hotel room and two days off before the *shudder* flight back.  But there was no tea.  Everyone at MI6 knew better than to talk to Q before he had at least two cups of Earl Grey in him.

Holding the cell up to his ear, he settled back into the squishy chair of the coffee house to continue regaling Bond with the horrors of American hot beverages.  “I ordered tea and it came with ice.  ICE.  What kind of place is this?”

“Q.  Focus.  Mission remember?”

Shaking his head to clear it a bit, “Yes, yes.  Sorry.  I just want to go home.  This was a bad idea.  I miss you.  I miss London.”

He heard Bond sigh softly, “Look, I know.  But you need to focus.  I am meeting the contact there in 20 minutes, so make sure there is a clear table near where you are sitting.  Spread out with your bag and laptop or something.  When this is complete, we will go find you the best tea the town has to offer.  Deal?”

“Of course.  See you soon, Bond.”  He paused, “But if it is Lipton, your mobile will be programmed with the most god awful theremin ringtone I can find.  And trust me, I can find some bad ones.”


	22. Power Outage

“What did you do, Q?”

Q looked up from his laptop, blinking.  It did seem a lot darker than the last time he glanced up, but that happens a lot ot him. But no, it was darker everywhere.   “Turn on a light, James.”

“I can’t.  There’s no power.  What did you do?”  James disgruntled voice came from the direction of the kitchen.  Oh, 6PM.  He was making dinner.  With no power.

Sighing, Q pushed himself to his feet, laptop abandoned on the couch facing out into the rest of the room to give him some light.  “I didn’t do it.  Just a power outage it would seem.”

He entered the kitchen and, using his mobile as a torch, could see James glaring at a pot on the stove.  He turned at the light, “Then do something about it.”

Q chuckled and wrapped his arms around the agent, “Contrary to popular belief, I cannot fix everything.  We just need to wait.”  It was starting to get colder in the flat already so Q appreciated it when Bond returned the embrace, resting his head on the agent’s shoulder.  “So the way I see it, we have two choices.  One we can stay here and wait for the power to come back on before we eat or we can go out and find someplace that still has electricity.”

He felt Bond’s breath on his neck, his lips against his ear, “Or we could go keep ourselves warm and worry about dinner later.”

Pulling back, Q smiled, “Now that sounds like the perfect idea, 007.”  Their lips met and they kissed the entire way to the bedroom, neither caring as they tripped over various furniture.  Falling into bed, limbs tangled and bodies pressed together, they spent the next two hours finding every possible way to stay warm.  By the time the power came back on around 3AM, both men were sound asleep, wrapped around each other, dinner long forgotten. 

 


	23. Christmas Eve Drinks

James knew there was no point in going home.  He had just finished his most recent debrief, it was half 12, and Christmas Eve, but even so, he knew what he would find when he walked to the basement.  As he made his way through MI6’s deserted hallways, a solitary light shone from the end of the hall.  Entering Q branch, a familiar figure stood in front of him, eyes on a computer screen, the light of which caused his hair to look an inky blue-black. 

Bond sidled up behind Q, wrapped his arms around the young man’s waist.  “You work too much.”  Q snorted but continued to type, working on a particularly difficult piece of coding.  “It’s Christmas Eve.  Shouldn’t you be at home with some drinks and loved ones.”

“No loved ones at home and I have drinks here,” Q said, turning to press a kiss to James cheek.  “But in the absence of loved ones, I guess you will have to do.”

“Cheeky brat,” Bond chuckled, holding him closer.  “Do you have anything besides tea to drink here?”

Q resumed his typing.  “Third drawer on the left of my desk in my office.”

Bond slipped into the office, his footsteps echoing through the empty room.  Grinning, he pulled the bottle from the drawer as well as two glasses and returned to find Q had taken up a spot at the conference table. 

James joined him, pouring them each a drink.  The liquor burned on the way down, and he relished the warmth that spread through his body.  “Not bad.  Where did you get it?”

“Knew it would come in handy eventually.” 

They passed the time in silence, both just sipping their drinks and enjoying their moment together.  Eventually, Q made to get up and go back to work.  Catching his wrist, James pulled him onto his lap.

“007, I do have other things to do than you.  Let me get back to work.”

Raising an eyebrow, Bond just held him tighter, “Q, it is 1 on Christmas morning.  I think you are allowed some time off.  Come home.”

Q bent his head, kissing him for a moment.  “I just have a couple more things to do.  They need to be done before morning.  I promise I will be home in 30 minutes.  Just go home and I will meet you there.”

Bond went to argue but seeing a look in Q’s eye he realized there was no point.  “Okay, but if you aren’t home by 2, I am coming back and dragging you home.” 

Q smiled as James left, then got back to putting the finishing touches on the agent’s Christmas present.


	24. Putting Out the Present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 221b Style

From the street below Q could see that the flat was dark except for the bedroom.  This was perfect.  Living with a spy made secrecy difficult, but at least when it came to Christmas presents, Bond gave him some space. 

Upon entering the flat, he smiled seeing a set of chopsticks on the counter, and he peeked his head into the fridge, his favourite Chinese takeaway on the shelf.  Pulling it out, he popped into the bedroom.  “Thanks for the food.  I’ll be in just a minute.  Stay here.”  Bond smirked and nodded, knowing what Q was doing. 

In the living room, Q carefully set the package down under their small tree, next to another box wrapped in plain brown paper.  He had to roll his eyes.  Such a Bond present.  He sat on the couch, admiring their little Christmas tree and eating his food. 

He knew for a fact that the exploding pen would be a great gift for Bond and that James would be very grateful for it.   He also knew there was a chance that he could accidentally set it off before even opening the box and blow up half the block.  It was a trade off, but he trusted Bond.

Climbing into the bed, he smiled at his lover, “Promise me, you’ll be careful with that box.” 


	25. Christmas Morning

Bond was always an early riser.  Even when there was nothing that needed to be done, he was still up before sunrise.  Today was no exception, though this time he had a reason.  He slipped carefully from their bed, doing his best not to wake Q who had been at work until late into the night.  Bond knew he would be up soon enough, but he hoped he had time to complete his plan.

In the kitchen he pulled out all the necessary ingredients, and got to work making breakfast.  He was not a fantastic cook, but years of being on his own and caused him to at least learn the basics.  He set the water to boil for tea and was just finishing with the eggs and toast when Q stumbled, bleary eyed, from the bedroom, blanket wrapped around him.

His hair stood at gravity defying angles and his glasses were not quite straight on his nose, and in Bond’s eyes he had never looked more attractive.  “Morning,” he said as he handed a hot cup of Earl Grey to Q who sipped it gratefully.  Dishing up the food, they took the two plates to the living room where they reclined on the couch while eating their breakfast, a winter rain rolling down the windows outside.

Following breakfast, Bond handed Q three presents.  “Open these two first,” he said, motioning to the larger ones on Q’s lap.  “I want the small one to be the last thing opened today.”

Q eagerly started unwrapping the first gift while stating, “You didn’t have to do all this.  I only got you one thing.”  Bond rolled his eyes as Q pulled out the box.  “Scrabble?”

“Open it,” James grinned. 

Q could not contain the laughter as he opened the box, finding a full Scrabble set comprised of nothing but the letter Q.  “This is the least useful gift I have ever been given,” he giggled.  “I love it.  Thanks.”

The next box contained a large package of his favourite brand of Earl Grey as well as some biscuits from a bakery near MI6.

Jumping up, he grabbed Bond’s present from under the tree, presenting it to him gently.  “Just don’t shake it, okay?”

Bond opened the box slowly as if he was saving the paper for something.  When it was finally opened, he stared at it for a moment before realization dawned in his eyes.  “Is this what I think it is, Q?”

Q nodded.  “I know I told you we don’t do that kind of thing anymore, but it’s Christmas so I did it anyway.  Just use it wisely, alright?”

For that, James snogged him for a several minutes, pleased beyond belief with his gift.  It was perfect and he was even more convinced that the last gift was just what he wanted to give to Q.

As they broke apart, he pointed to the smaller box.  “Open it.  Please?” 

Q looked confused as he opened it; James being nervous was not something he was used to.  As he opened the small box, where he expected something like a watch was a small silver band.  His heart caught in his throat as he turned to look at 007.

“I know our lives are anything but traditional, but, well, I just wanted you to know what you mean to me.  So while we never have to make anything official, I still want to ask.  William Alexander Clarke, Q, will you marry me?”

Q leapt across the couch at him, wrapping his arms around James.  “Yes, James.  Yes,” he murmured, kissing the man thoroughly while Bond slipped the small ring onto Q’s hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it is done! I hope you enjoyed it!! -J


End file.
